Don't listen to what they say. Go see.

Here it is, I’m leaving for 9 whole days in Berlin… can my faithful readers handle it without blogs for that long?

Can Berlin handle the Jen and Kim show for that long?

We shall find out. I’m off to Germany and when I get back I’ll have plenty of stories and pictures.

I’ve been promised giant ferris wheels, Christmas markets and maybe the nutcracker ballet.

Oh the places I will go.

PS: it turned out to be a white Christmas after all. It started snowing Christmas night and left about a foot covering the ground for boxing day.

Christmas will always be as long as we stand heart to heart and hand in hand.

Here’s wishing everyone a very merry Christmas and an even happier New Year!!

May Dominick and Santa bring you everything you could wish for.

Buon Natale!

Love Jen

“Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love!”

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…

Or not. Because to be honest with you, white stuff or no, I’m finally excited for Christmas. I’d prefer a little of it, but not enough to ruin my travel plans, thank you very much.

But Canada. Oh Canada.

I hear you’ve lived up to your reputation. After months of telling everyone who assumed I lived in some white tundra that it doesn’t snow often in Vancouver the weather gods seem to have pulled a fast one on me.

I’m kinda jealous to tell you the truth. Because although snow sucks when I have places to be and things to do, there is something to be said about a snowy winter day and sitting at home watching it fall.

That and walking down normally busy streets that apparently are deserted.

But your minus 14 degrees… you can keep that.

Keep warm Canada. I’ll try to send warm thoughts your way, seeing that our thermometer hasn’t really dipped below 0 during the day for over a week.

Enough bragging now, I think I’m in for some cold stuff in Berlin.

Crap… by posting this I hope I don’t jinx my travel weather. Damn.

My 15 seconds should have started yesterday

It’s a well known fact that there is a certain area in the center of Vicenza where wireless internet runs free.

It’s how I post most of these wonderful blogs, download tv shows and music and generally try to fix my computer (update: my wait for everything to blow over plan worked, my computer has once again miraculously fixed itself… buy apple people, they fix themselves).

Anyways, I’m not the only one to do it. I see various people outside with their laptops. I may be the only idiot who sits there in the cold for long periods of time though (all in the name of Christmas gifts though).

On Monday I was downloading some stuff on iTunes (yes, I now legally buy music since the weak signal often means downloading a song can take an hour) for my uncles Christmas present. I was sitting on these steps where many people sit and eat or talk or use their computers, when up walks this woman and she shoves a microphone in my face and this cameraman has a camera pointed at me. She asks me something in Italian so I use my general excuse to get out of everything “I don’t speak Italian.” So she asks me in English… damn. She wanted to know if I was using the internet, unaware if this was legal or if it was allowed I didn’t want to say anything lest the free ‘net was shut down and I didn’t want to be stuck with the blame.

So I did what any famous person would do.

I put my hands up in a very dramatic fashion and said I didn’t want to be on film.

Looking back, I probably looked like an ass, but those are the breaks I guess. It’s the price to pay to keep your anonymity and the free web open.

Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.

Is it just me? Or is everyone else not quite there this year? I mean it's less than a week away from Christmas and I'm not even close to being ready.

I said I would bake, so far I've done none of that (but have big plans for that this weekend).

Christmas shopping? Uh, no. Not done yet. Not even started (ok, maybe a small gift was bought but that doesn't count). Thing is, I'm not quite sure how to go about it. I'm so used to stressed out mall shopping and knowing what I want to buy and where to buy it. Here, well malls are few and far in between (not to mention I get confused by even the simplest directions here), so it leaves me driving to stores that I assume has what I want, but only to be disappointed when it's not there.

It also seems to me that it's just not in the air. You know the Christmas feeling? I know, it's probably commercially created and it may be pathetic to some that I've come to rely on the commercialism to indicate the holiday season, but I just don't feel it.

Or maybe it's because I'm not where I know what Christmas is. I'm used to certain things, you know. I'm used to cutting down a tree with the family while singing Christmas carols and dodging tree stumps. Then going home and decorating that tree with Christmas cartoons playing in the background.

Baking isn't solitary and trying to find ingredients for shortbread or gingerbread isn't a task that is near impossible.

I'm used to new pajamas's on Christmas eve and waking up to open presents followed by breakfast with the family. Then heading to Nonna's to watch fake fires on TV and the mystery Christmas gift exchange.

It's all relative, I know. I'm in a different place from those that I know and that's what I want. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Maybe it's just another barrier in language and culture. Maybe I'm just stressing because it's a week away and I'm need more time.

Whatever it is, I need Christmas spirit.

(although I am very, very excited about my trip to Berlin in one week!)

The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other.

Behold the beautiful Christmas tree decorating our living room



Pretty swell huh? All my doing. Well almost all, I had an issue with the tinsel so Uncle Meraldo helped me out. He also put up the tree and the lights. But the bulbs, all me.

(Side note: Tinsel here is different from in Canada, that’s why I had a problem, not because I’m inept or anything. It’s all long strands instead of the short stuff back home, much easier and better I think)

The tree is artificial, apparently that is the norm here since, as my student put it, “Italy isn’t all forest like in Canada.” He then made me feel bad when I told him that it doesn’t feel right without a real tree. It quickly passed though.

Also, let’s take a mini-survey right now. How many people hang apples on their tree (fake apples of course) or use them as decorations of some kind (fake again of course)? Because I know we do at my mom’s house, also my awesome ghetto tree had them glued right on. I found them here as well and I’m pretty sure Nonna uses them too. Now what is this obsession with apples? Is there something about this? I always thought oranges and cranberries were the fruit of the season.

This weekend I’ll start some Christmas baking (start and finish I suppose, this holiday is creeping up on me this year), because quite honestly it’s not feeling very Christmas-y yet, maybe it’s the lack of commercialism or Christmas music on the radio, so I hope that helps. I should probably begin my Christmas shopping as well… this may be the latest I’ve ever left it, but gift ideas are hard and finding what I have in mind is harder since the stores here are way different then Canada (and I need a mall… malls are hard to come by around here).

Update...

My aunt will be coming home from the hospital tomorrow (Tuesday).... yay!

After over a week in the hospital (and a week since the operation) she's gotten the ok to come home Tuesday.

Hooray

hey faithful readers...

so I'm trying out something new.

you know those annoying ads you see on every webpage? they sure are pesky.

as you'll notice, I've added them!

here's the deal, I put them here, they get some advertisment based on what I'm writing about (which adds to blog fodder when I can laugh at what they chose to advertise based on my writing)and if you, my special readers, click them (no purchasing or anything necessary), I make money!

win- win- win situation there you see.

So click away... I know mom will :D

Thanks y'all!

I am so smrt

At dinner today I had a thought. I was thinking about school and life and how when I first started at ubc I was annoyed that I waited so long to go to university and how I wasn't going to graduate until I was 26.

Today I thought of how proud I was that I proved myself wrong and did it before I was 26. You see, I thought I was 24 for a moment there.

Why am I sharing this with the whole interweb?

Well based on my meanderings on this here blog I didn't want total strangers to think I was always brilliant.

We need not think alike to love alike

"Prop 8 - The Musical" starring Jack Black, John C. Reilly, and many more... by Jack Black

Dr. Laura Schlessinger is a radio personality who dispenses advice to people who call in to her radio show. Recently, she said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned by a east coast resident, which was posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative:

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the other specific laws and how to follow them:

When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15:19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?

A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this?

Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?

Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? - Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus

May I present to you, the reasons I love the Christmas season more than any other. Not even years and years of working in retail could dampen my love of this time of year.

1. Real Christmas trees and the hunt for the perfect one
2. Christmas music, even if I start listening before it’s probably socially acceptable
3. Dominick the donkey and the fun times Team International Delight has with him
4. Red cups and Christmas at Starbucks, which thereby tells me it’s ok to start celebrating (I know, I know, I am sucked into the most obvious commercial ploy to man)
5. Ghetto Christmas at Kim and mine’s apartment the last couple years… geez I’ll miss that tree that Kim swore would cause her seizures
6. Mandarin oranges
7. The smells of Christmas (nutmeg, clove, tree, cinnamon, etc)
8. My mom’s decorated house that I used to think was too much but now do the exact same thing
9. The occasional white Christmas that happen so rarely in Vancouver
10. Snow in Stanley Park while walking the seawall with an egg nogg latte and occasionally jumping in to piles of white stuff
11. It’s a Wonderful Life, which we watch every Christmas Eve
12. Velvet Christmas dresses and patent leather shoes that I used to get every Christmas to wear for our portraits
13. Christmas parties and the outfits to go along with them
14. Candy canes and the art of making them into Christmas shiv’s.
15. Santa hats
16. Wrapping presents
17. Christmas lights on the houses
18. Peaceful winter nights at home, where you’re all warm and bundled up watching old school Christmas cartoons
19. Christmas baking
20. Christmas eve with the family and bragging about the awesome turkey I made years ago
21. The kindness of people at this time of year
22. The feeling… the indescribable feeling that we get at Christmas that makes you feel as if everything is right with the world
23. Believing in Santa Claus


“Christmas — that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance — a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved.”

“What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future. It is a fervent wish that every cup may overflow with blessings rich and eternal, and that every path may lead to peace.”

Ever since I was a kid, I've always been a real deep thinker and stuff

What’s this? Another post with no direction except some ramblings of a gal trying to figure out life in Italy?

Silly blog readers, you should have figured out by now that that is the point of this thing. Hell, it’s the point of my life, either in writing, speaking or emphatic hand gestures (which by the way, if you thought I was a big gesture hand talker before, you should see me now). Anyways, on with the rambling…

*Let me start by saying there is one side effect of not having a second English speaking person to translate in the house right now… I’m speaking Italian to people. No, really.

Sure, Christian has to correct my verb tenses (damn the verb tenses I say! Damn them!), but I get my point across and it’s not as hard as I assumed.

I had hoped to test my Italian when my aunt was in Canada, but the situation changed and the last few weeks of cramming were cut short. Life throws curve balls and we adapt, it’s as simple as that.

*Speaking of my aunt, she had her operation on Tuesday and it went well, she spent the rest of the day sleeping, due to the heavy sedation she was given while undergoing eye surgery. I’m unsure if there was an option to stay awake with only local anesthetic during the operation but if there ever is an operation that I think requires heavy sedation, anything on the eyes would be it (says the girl that freaks out if she touches her eye while dealing with contact lenses… but who am I kidding, I believe sedation is needed for anything that involves doctors)

But, she is doing ok, the operation was successful and she is awake and talking now. She should be home on Tuesday or Wednesday.

*I came to an important conclusion last week after my aunt and I were watching some Italian show with some American actor I’ve never heard of but my aunt recognized. She mentioned how he hasn’t worked in the US since circa 1980 and was now trying his hand at Italian television (he obviously spoke his lines in English and they dubbed his voice with the Italian voiceover, meanwhile all the other actors spoke in Italian). Anyways, I realized that the whole dubbing in Italian is actually a good thing for some actors. I mean, if you’re Keanu Reeves or Val Kilmer and you’re speaking/acting skills are atrocious, the dubbing guy can kinda fix that for you so that you’re not that horrible.

Other fun facts about dubbing… the Clooney guy sounds a lot like Clooney, so does the Russell Crowe guy. Watching shows like Will & Grace kinda suck because Karen and Jack don’t sound the same, it’s missing the high-pitched Karen voice and laugh and dare I say, they make Jack sound really, really gay.


*In Polish/East European excitement… I had a class with a student yesterday and the unit we were talking about had a chart that named the top tourist destinations in the world. It surprised me a bit… France came in first, U.S. second. I’ve seen charts in the past that reflect this, but some other countries were absent that I thought would be there, such as Australia, weren’t. What surprised me was Poland was number 9 and the Czech Republic was 10, I think Hungary was 7 or something like that.

I asked my student why he thought it was like this. He got kinda embarrassed at first, but then said he thought it could be because there is apparently a big sex tourism industry in these countries. Really?

My first thought with Poland was history, you know, concentration camps and all that stuff (because concentration camps seem to be my first thought when anyone mentions Poland… it’s not perverse, it’s a bi-product of reading many books on the atrocities there). But he argued that a lot of people go to east Europe for the sex trade. I reminded him this wasn’t just European tourists, this was a worldwide thing, I could swear other countries were more popular for that kind of thing, but no, he said it was a thing, especially because E. European women are beautiful, whereas my examples (Thailand, etc) aren’t (in his words) “as beautiful.” It’s all relative to your type I tried to explain… but then it occurred to me that we were discussing the sex trade and it’s a sad topic and I didn’t want to get into it. Especially since I began to wonder why he knew so much about the topic.

*We also discussed Italian industry, he claims the main exports are cars. While this is probably true, I joked that I thought fashion was… he didn’t appreciate that. But he did tell me when I complained it was all so expensive that I could go buy designer goods at the market at cheap prices… they even say the names on it. This of course is just like the “designer goods” you find at the night market in Richmond and of course they’re not real. He did not believe me. I wonder why he continues to take lessons with me if he constantly thinks that I’m naïve (this happens at least once a class, we meet once a week), even if it is just my way of being funny.

I also joked that I thought Kinder was a big export for them, again… he did not find this funny. My sense of humor is wasted here.

*I think I’ve achieved the impossible. Or not me, but a cat has pulled a quick one on me and made me tolerate it.

Meet Ginger:



This is Jessica’s cat. Jessica and Simone went away for the weekend and left Ginger at our place to stay, being an inside cat he had to stay inside… my allergies be damned.

Aside from a spastic allergy attack I suffered the first night he was here I had little to no other allergy attacks (mainly because I was cold and grabbed a blanket to cover myself while watching TV, little did I know I grabbed his blanket and pretty much lay in cat hair for a few hours). It may have been due to my diligent hand washing after I touched him, which was actually a lot since dude likes to jump on you lap and sleep. And I hate to say, I may have liked playing with him a bit, or maybe I was trying to make the other cat jealous, to show her that I can be nice to cats that aren’t complete bitches (because while Ginger isn’t a complete bitch, because he is a cat he was slightly snooty, I mean he’d try and sit on my computer keyboard because he was lacking attention, when I’d swat him away, he’d just jump back up).

PS: yes that is a hockey game in the background of the ginger pic, it was Calgary vs St. Louis since finding a Canucks game is pretty hard around here. Sure we get the occasional game, but it seems the network here is a lot like the CBC and TSN and love to show mainly Toronto and Ottawa games.

PPS: You know it’s big news when the Sean Avery incident makes it’s way to Europe. I’m glad to see the guy remains the biggest douche to every hit the NHL. Can they please ban him? (and I don’t like the actress in question) How about we forget about the whole getting rid of Harper discussion and instead focus our attentions on getting rid of that guy.

Pass the scalpel

Apparently I’m a doctor. No… seriously.

How scary would that be, me a doctor. I know, I know, doctors don’t just operate, but the whole thought of me as a doctor scares me since I don’t like blood or anything else that has to do with the innards of our bodies (I believe they’re innards for a reason). If this was unclear before, the way that I screamed and covered my eyes when I flipped to “Doctor 90210” yesterday while they were doing a tummy tuck made it crystal clear to me.

So why am I a doctor? Well apparently anyone who holds a university degree in Italy is called ‘dottore’ (translation: doctor), just like those that work really hard in North America to earn their doctorates.

Let’s be clear though, I’m still uncertain about the whole university system here. At times it seems that they work a lot harder than we do and I know they go for a minimum 5 years for a degree (unlike most Canadian students who should do it in 4 years, but most of those I know take 5 or more). I’m still not sure if the degree they get is the same as a bachelor degree in North America. I just like the sound of being a doctor, so let’s just pretend everything equals everything else and that I’m a doctor.

That could be so much fun if I’m ever in a situation where someone screams out “Is there a doctor here!!” when someone is choking on something or having a heart attack or whatever and I say “I’m a doctor” with a proud smile on my face. But then point to the person suffering and say “oh, but I don’t know how to deal with that.”

Ok, in theory it might not be funny if it were to be true, but hypothetically you could get a chuckle out of it.

I found all this out when I went to a grad party of one of the girls I work with. It was a lot of fun; I got to go out on a Saturday night with people aside from my cousins and their friends and meet new people. Everyone started singing fun Italian songs, line danced to such classics like the Macarena (Microsoft word knew the correct spelling to that and auto-corrected it, crazy), YMCA (who knew their was an actual dance to that aside from the requisite YMCA hand gestures) and the Wingfield classic “Saturday Night” (a long forgotten ditty by me, who even knew that had a dance either). I also heard Friar Jacque in Italian. Fun times!

In other news (amazingly this update is all about medicine and doctors)…

My aunt, Livi, was supposed to be heading to Canada for Christmas is unfortunately not able to go now. Last week she started having problem with her left eye and after a visit to the hospital on Saturday they told her she has to have surgery because her retina had collapsed. She was admitted to the hospital on Saturday and should be having the surgery on Tuesday... or not, as of Monday (a holiday) the doctor is unsure if he has time for her on Tuesday or Wednesday, so it could be any of those days or after.

This means that she will not be able to fly like she had planned to the next Tuesday. She was told that she should be in the hospital for about a week after the surgery, which is quite different from what we’re used to in Canada. On the plus side, she’s being operated on by one of the best eye doctors in Italy.

Don’t worry everyone, I’ll try to keep you guys updated on the situation (being a doctor and all I assure you that my medical updates will be as detailed and informative as possible). If anyone has any ideas for things that can keep her occupied we’d really appreciate it though. She’s not allowed to watch TV, read or do anything with her eyes, so she listens to music and has visitors, but as you could imagine, it can be boring. Suggestions?

In lighter news…

I received an interesting letter in the mail a week ago. As most people know, in North America we’re responsible for making appointments for screenings of any kind of cancer- mammograms, pap smears, colonoscopies, etc. These need to be done something like once a year, but most of us probably let these things slip if we don’t find a need to be concerned or anything. Anyways, imagine my surprise when I got mail here (not just the surprise that someone actually felt the need to mail me something, aside from my mother) saying that I had an appointment for a pap smear (or pap test as they call it). I opened the mail and tried to decipher the Italian writing, utterly confused by the words I asked my aunt if “pap test” meant the same in Italian as it did in English. It did indeed. I was also confused why these people were writing to me about my... ahem… lady parts. Sorry, it’s odd… I’ve never gotten any mail about them. Apparently screening for cancers here is really diligent.

So here’s how it works. They send you a letter telling you to come in to get your pap test, mammogram (of the certain age) or whatever, they tell you the day and time. Also that if you have to work, you’ll get a note for your absence and they’ll still pay you for the time you miss. There are a few more other surprising things that came with this letter. One is that I’ve been here for less than 3 months, only a registered citizen for a little less than two, and they’re already booking me appointments. In comparison, Jessica has been 25 since April and has yet to receive an appointment (it turns out that I wasn’t going to go, so Jessica was able to go in my place). The second surprising fact is that this system is in place. It’s kinda awesome since they specifically tell you in the letter that you’re due for the check up and that they will be screening for HPV (an STD which can lead to cervical cancer), they give you an appointment and really no reason not to show up (except for myself, who would be working at the time and because I’m a contracted employee I wouldn’t be paid for it, so I’m not going). Thirdly, this is really, really, really organized for the bureaucratic mess that is the Italian system. As my aunt told me “it’s the only part of Italy that isn’t broken.” By the way did I mention this is all free?

On the negative, for women of a certain age- i.e. my age- it’s every 3 years that you get this appointment, but as you get older it’s every year, even though I always believed it’s important to go on a yearly basis. You can also get a test in the meantime if you make an appointment, either with your doctor or if you go to the cancer clinic, but you have to pay if you chose not to wait for your government selected appointment. It costs $10, but here’s what’s kind of cool about going to the cancer clinic over the doctors: if you go to the doctors or the hospital the money basically goes to the doctor, but if you go to the cancer clinic and pay your $10 the money goes to the cancer foundation. Do they do that in Canada? I mean if I had to pay for a pap smear or whatever cancer testing, I’d prefer the money go to cancer research rather than to whatever doctor and the government.

I’m glad that something in the Italian system works, because if there is anything that I’ve noticed here is that bureaucracy here is a mess, even for those that can understand the language and have lived here for years.

ideas?

hey everyone...

so I just got a new set of students, I'll be teaching to a bunch of children, actually babies and toddlers are more like it.

the program requires me to talk about one color a month, january will be white, february will be orange and march is green.

we have activities planned, but does anyone know songs or rhymes suitable for children, that has to do with these specific colors? I know some songs but they're about many colors, not just specifics.

help?

thanks!
j

Christmas is sights, especially the sights of Christmas reflected in the eyes of a child.

Christmas in Vicenza is in full-effect. And it’s beautiful. They have lights everywhere. Everywhere. All the streets are decorated with little blue lights hanging from wires. The main squares have white lights everywhere. There’s a giant tree. The store windows have displays of Christmas scenes and snowscapes.

It is wonderful.

Here are a few pictures I took. Trust me, my sad attempt at photography does not do any of this justice.

We’ve been to hundreds of weddings, and guess what? We’ve rocked them all.

Oh my god… I was watching Wedding Crashers last night and John McCain is in the movie! He’s in the scene right before the wedding of Christopher Wallace’s daughter.

Crazy. If he had mentioned that in his campaigning, I’m sure he would have gotten a few more votes.

It’s a Christmas miracle!

Oh Canada. I knew you’d smarten up.

PS: try to find this on any of the international news stations. It’s impossible. Canada doesn’t seem to matter according to BBC, CNN International or Fox”News”.

The Christmas spirit — love — changes hearts and lives.

“It is not even the beginning of Christmas unless it is Christmas in the heart.”

It's December 1st... that means the beginning of all things Christmas for a full month.

Let's start it off with some music to get you in the mood.

I didn’t know my addiction was that bad

I feel like I need to rename this blog. Or maybe just add a new subtitle or something. Because I spend a lot of time writing about Starbucks here.

The other day I heard some horrible news. Apparently Starbucks profits for this year were down 97%.

For those who don’t know, Kim and myself owe our university education to Starbucks. They kept us awake many nights when our beds called to us while essay deadlines and examination dates loomed. When we couldn’t concentrate at home because we were looking up useless facts or Hawaiian real estate on the internet or we had to watch just one more episode of Law and Order (which would always lead to some fight on the politics behind the episode), we would head to Starbucks to sit and study, hoping we’d be able to focus on the task at hand (most probably, but not always true).

While I figured that when we graduated we might miss late night runs to Starbucks, we would take turns walking to the corner of Davie and Denman right before they closed for the night. Sometimes we’d spot fellow students making their late night run (our favorite was the guy who went in his pajama’s and robe, we would at least put on clothes), most time’s we’d catch some really bad karaoke action at the bar on the way. I’d often have to dodge the drunk creepy old guy in the building who was always hitting on me. And then there was Bobo. Oh Bobo, the homeless guy in front of Max. His name wasn’t Bobo, we just called him that (why am I talking like he’s dead)… we CALL him that. We’d always come back from a Starbucks run and report back what Bobo was doing. Sometimes he’d be sleeping on the Max sidewalk, other times he’d be inside watching hockey on their TV, he is also known to talk to himself and say random things to people walking by. The best (well for me, who didn’t bear witness to this) was when Kim saw him doing his business in the middle of the sidewalk… she came home horrified that she had seen him, well, you know, doing numero due.

I had no idea what us graduating was going to do for their business. Never mind the fact that we’re not even in the country to still support them. Sure, one of us is still in a country that has a Starbucks (apparently I’ll be able to get the nectar of the God’s when I get to Berlin), but us leaving North America, specifically Vancouver where there is a Starbucks on every block (three actually on the block where we lived) has killed their business.

Don’t work ‘Bucks. I’ll try to make up my part when I get to Berlin. Sadly, I hear they do not have egg nogg latte’s, but instead some weird German latte that includes pastry of some sort. I’ve been warned that I will need to try this delicacy. I’m also afraid that I’ll have to drink out of a huge beer stein when I get to Germany. Will the German’s kick me out for not liking beer? Can I get wine in that?

Oh! Today I may have also found a new Christmas drink. My mom always had this thing when she had a cold, she would boil red wine with cloves, cinnamon and lemon. I never thought this would work, instead it’s just a way of getting drunk to forget your symptoms. I told my aunt this yesterday as she was explaining this drink to me, but instead she says it’s not just a cure for what ails you, but a drink for the holidays. We went to a Christmas market today and I tried it. It’s pretty good, doesn’t make up for the no latte situation, but you know, I do what I can (which is apparently drink to forget?).

There wont be any snow in Africa this Christmas time

But there is snow in Italy this end of November time.

It snowed again today. I also hear that there may be an apparent train strike. So that’s a double whammy against me in the trying to get to work department. Once again, I stayed home and used the dial-up to post blogs, find Christmas recipes, research NKOTB possibilities and flights to Vancouver (not for myself, for my aunt). Fun times eh?

Operation NKOTB. Part: I’ll be loving them forever

Tickets for the concert may be cheap. And my love of the New Kids still runs high all these years later. Unfortunately, after a check of every airline that flies from a local Italian city to Birmingham (3 total) I found that they do not fly on those days that I would like. Or they do, but the flight home costs more than I will pay (on the bonus, the flight there would be only 29 euro). Add to the fact that I would have to leave from the same Milan airport I will be leaving from to Berlin, which takes a couple hours (and costly train fares) to get to.

The tickets in Frankfurt are not as cheap and therefore it’s not a likely option.

Dublin is on a Wednesday and expensive as well, costing me not only money to go but also in missed work hours.

So I give up. Unless I find another cheap way of getting there or I consider going for a day or two longer than I would like. Or Santa and Dominick decide to give me a wonderful Christmas surprise

Oh well, the dream kept me entertained for a day. And, I know I said I gave up, but I will continue to search for options until the day before the concert. Trust.

Don’t worry, the blog will keep you updated on the latest goings on of my pilgrimage to see NKOTB… I shall not let one detail go unreported (I’m sure in the near future I’ll re-name it NKOTB adventures… god I wish).

And in response to my previous question about Birmingham, I did look it up Mom… on dial-up, in a cold bedroom with no heat. It took a long time but I did it. Although I’m sure your high speed cable internet in your warm house would have been faster and could have compiled info into a simple email for your daughter to read instead of having to sit in a cold room waiting for the pages to load. You should no better than to sass me in the matters of NKOTB. Here’s what I learned about the airport:

-The Birmingham airport is the 6th busiest in England, the second busiest not serving London
-The concord made a visit to the airport on her farewell tour
-In June 2007 an investigation found that the airport security team was often sleeping on duty, ignoring the security x-rays and worked under the influence of illegal drugs
-One month later, in July ’07, it was voted as Europe’s best airport in the 5-10million passengers per year category (coincidence??)
-The airlines flying from Italy to Birmingham are Bmibaby (Milan), Flybe (Milan) and Ryan Air (Bologna).
- In 2007, the 10 busiest scheduled destinations at the airport were Dublin, Amsterdam, Edinburgh, Belfast, Dubai, Paris, Glasgow, Frankfurt, Malaga and Alicante. The 10 busiest charter destinations were Palma, Tenerife, Arrecife, Paphos, Dalaman, Las Palmas, Heraklion, Fuerteventura, Larnaca and Ibiza

In which Jen finally travels in Europe

I booked my ticket to Berlin on Wednesday. My friend Kim has been in Berlin since September and we’ve finally arranged to see each other for New Years since I’ll be on vacation from work for the Christmas holidays. We haven’t seen each other since March, so I’m really excited to be able to see her here in Europe since she’s the one that got me curious in the whole travel shenanigans.

I was able to book through the notoriously cheap airline for flights in Europe- Ryan Air. Of course if I had tried to travel when it wasn’t the busy season it would have been cheaper, but I take what I can get I guess. Although, I did realize how it could be so cheap (seriously, during non-peak times a flight can be around 30 euro, sometimes less… mine was considerably more expensive), they do like to trick you with extras, such as baggage. Most times you have to fly out of airports far from where you are, I’m leaving from Milan, but not the airport in the city centre, rather the one 50km outside of it. If you want to check your luggage, it’ll cost you 30 euro… for a 15kg bag. Anyone who has ever traveled with me knows this is almost impossible, so I’ve chosen the cheap and economical option of a carry-on which I’ll pack as small and light as possible (I’m told Berlin is super-casual so doing this shouldn’t be too hard). They also try to trick you into travel insurance, if you’re a swift internet clicker, such as myself- the kind who doesn’t read everything before clicking ok- they add that on for you, luckily I saw that and skipped that charge. I think they charge for something if you’re not an E.U. citizen, so I gladly selected the option that I am a citizen of the European Union.

Sadly, Ryan Air does not fly to Birmingham from Italy (oh wait... they do, from Bologna). But I found some other cheap airline that appears to do so for around 20-30 euro… only they fly very rarely and I’m not sure about the days I need it, I want to try to leave on the Saturday morning and come back Sunday afternoon, staying in a cheap hostel or something for the night. Believe me, come hell or high water, I will try to make it to England for the New Kids (they do have concerts on other days but I need a weekend, the next weekend they’re in London, which I would much rather go to, but it’s sold out), if not they will be in Germany at the end of January and Dublin as well (but that’s on a Wednesday).

PS: Thanks Mom for the engaging comment on my previous post about going to see NKOTB.

And as for my changes to my blog layout, I obviously switched it back to the original format since the other one wasn’t jiving with me or my mother. I’m going to keep fiddling though, because I like changes :D

Where the heck is Birmingham?

And how do I get there?

Here's what I do know:

-it's in England
-the New Kids are playing there on January 17th
-FLOOR tickets (FLOOR!!!!) are only 35 euro
-I want to get there

Anyone?? Please advise

Luv J

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

This is the scene I woke up to on Monday:




I ask you one question: What’s prettier than the Italian countryside?

Answer: The Italian countryside covered in snow.

If this beautiful country couldn’t get any more beautiful, it succeeded when it dumped a couple of inches down on Sunday night. Of course, there are the usual downsides, especially to us living up on the mountain where the snow is much deeper than the rest of the city, the worst being that we couldn’t drive anywhere and thus keeping everyone indoors and away from work.

The second downside being that it’s freezing, although it was like that before the snow appeared. The bonus to this is that we have fires, something that we haven’t done in years in Canada due to the cleaning up factor (and that mom likes to decorate inside the fireplace), and what’s more fun than sitting beside the fire reading a good book (ok, probably a lot of stuff is more fun, but you get my point).

I had been warned by various people about snow here, although the warnings were often different. Some said it never snows, my family told me that it does, especially since we live so high up in the hills, making our house a winter wonderland.

At Sunday lunch we all spoke of the mythical snow. Some said that it wouldn’t come, that it was still weeks away. Others told stories of years past (apparently last year on a Saturday night out, Christian was driving home around 2am only to discover it had started snowing on our mountain. His car is useless in the snow he turned around, parked the car at the town at the bottom of the hill and walked up… a brave feat during the day in normal weather, but at night in the snow, wow). As I went to bed Sunday night I looked at the clouds and predicted that snow would fall during the night, when I was woken at 6am (both by the need to use the bathroom as well as all the talking downstairs) I realized that indeed the outside was covered in a blanket of the white stuff and no one would be going to work. So I went back to bed.

While I love the looks of it, driving, and thereby working is impossible. Luckily the roads get plowed and salted pretty fast around here, so by Tuesday morning the snow had stopped and we were able to go to work, even myself who hates driving in the snow.

Right now it’s the perfect kind of snow, it’s still on the yards and in the trees and the rooftops. The mountains and fields are absolutely gorgeous, but the roads are clear and safe for driving. On my way to Vicenza on Wednesday morning it was great to look at the blanket of white on the fields as I listened to Christmas music and realized Christmas is less than a month away!

Ch-ch-ch-changes

As you may notice, things have changed around here.

I'm not sure if it'll stay this way or if it'll go back to what it was or to something new, but I got bored this cold Sunday afternoon and went for a change.

But now dial-up is annoying me and I can't perfect everything. So, it'll be like this for the next day or two.

Life is a foreign language; all men mispronounce it.

My Italian is coming along slowly. Very slowly. It’s there, because I understand things more often than I did when I got here, reading it is pretty good as well, but speaking it, that’s another story.

Until Friday.

I had a conversation in Italian! WOOOO! This was exciting for me because I was getting annoyed because after being here 2 months it felt like I wasn’t progressing. So on Friday, I was going into this shop to get something for my mom (awesome Christmas surprise… maybe) but they didn’t have it in the window like it was on Wednesday. Taking a chance, I went up to the woman who worked there and in Italian, told her I didn’t speak very well, but I wanted to know what happened to the ________ that was in the window the other day. She told me they were sold out.

I would have been sad because the gift is awesome and I’m sure my mom would love it, but any sadness I should have felt was gone because I successfully communicated in Italian :D

I’m not saying what the gift was just in case I find it somewhere else.

But, this little communication gave me the confidence to start talking more in Italian no matter if I make mistakes. I usually do and realize it as soon as I walk away. Oh well, hills and valleys kids, it’s all hills and valley’s.

When I got home later I giddily told my story to everyone and they were proud. Hooray… I may actually have a handle on this language before I finish here.

In other news…

On Saturday night people ate dead birds at our house… while I have taken to trying almost everything once, the dead birds will not be tried (they still look like birds!). Although I did give pheasant a chance, tastes like chicken actually. As for polenta… I had no idea what I was missing up until this point in my life.

Also on Saturday night, I went out with Christian and his friends. One of his friends is apparently related (cousin’s I think) to the person who plays violin in the singer Shaggy’s band. Upon hearing this I thought “Shaggy requires a violinists?” Then I thoughts “does Shaggy still tour?” I know you’re all jealous… I would be too if it were the year 2000 and that stupid “It wasn’t me song” wasn’t already played to death.

And apparently I’m a better bowler than I thought. We played on Saturday night at 2am and I was better than I remembered, I didn’t break 100 but I got a spare, and I think that’s more than I could say for my bowling prowess in Canada.

Female Donkey's are called Jenny's

Or so says wikipedia.

Because they're the most reliable source out there, I believe them. I was doing research for my awesome present for Team I.D. when I found that out.

I also shamefully found out I've been spelling Dominick wrong. It's Dominick, not Dominique. I apparently wasn't using the Italian version.

Fun facts for your Monday morning :D

Snow-capped mountains are bringing in the Christmas cheer

I’ve been holding out. While I did add Christmas tunes to my iPod about a month+ ago, I have been avoiding listening to them. Why? Right now I think it’s because I haven’t got the red cups of Starbucks to remind me that Christmas is upon us and that I need to get excited. I know, I’m victim to such a commercial marketing ploy, and a transparent one at that, but I can’t help who I am. IT’S WHO I AM! DO YOU WANT ME TO CHANGE WHO I AM? (as a side-note, I have read several other blogs where the writers, from elsewhere in this world, are also victim to the red cup being their marker of Christmas season as well, so I’m not alone) I’m told that as of Nov. 13th the egg nogg hit the ‘bucks in their red cups and I’m hoping everyone out there got the chance to drink one in my honor (as a addendum to my last request, I apparently have to inform people that it is the reduced-fat ones they should be enjoying… my own mother didn’t even remember the Jen-trivia that states that coffee is always non or reduced fat (egg nogg is not available in non-fat since… well it’s an oxymoron)).

Luckily I have had a few audio and visual stimuli to remind me that corporations do and do not run my life and I can get through this Christmas season without a red cup to remind me to be festive. The first clue that Christmas was upon us was last Monday when my aunt and I were doing the dishes, she started humming a tune that I had only heard from my father before. After my first initial shock that someone else knew this silly song (apparently my other aunt, Lella, should no too… if you’re reading ask my dad about it and confirm knowledge please), I got a warm-fuzzy Christmas feeling and began to feel the excitement.

The song, for those wondering, and if anyone knows it please comment on that fact, is as follows:

“Christmas day is coming, lights are on the tree, hang up your stocking for Santa Clause to see. If you haven’t got a stocking then a little sock will do. If you haven’t got a little sock God bless you”

It’s much better sung by my dad, so if you’re given the chance, make him sing it… there’s also a kicky dance that goes with it (more of a hand dance actually) that I hope he will throw in with it.

The second Christmas clue was that the stores are decorating, the cities are stringing up lights in the piazzas and we bought poinsettias. Both my aunt and Jessica bought one. While I told Jessica to keep it away from her cat, Ginger, who’s this cute little thing that may be my uncles new best friend, I told my aunt that I want to relocate ours to sit just beside Poochy’s (our cat) bed. You see poinsettias are poisonness if ingested… and just because Christmas is upon us doesn’t mean I don’t still hate the cat.

The third clue and the second most influential commercialism clue is that I saw my first coca-cola Christmas commercial. Not as cute or as fun as the polar bear ones they had running in North America a few years ago, but still good nonetheless.

And so that’s it. Christmas is upon us and expect the blog to be inundated with Christmas spirit for the next month and a half. Big things are planned, and while I’m sure most of them will be carried out (Jen in Italy is still as much a procrastinator as Jen in Canada) stay tuned for the holiday fun! :D

PS: Note to Team International Delight- your present will be awesome, I’ve started working on it and I’m uber, uber excited about it.

Life is like pizza, When it's good, It's really good. When it's bad, it's still pretty good.

I figured it was about time to write an update about my life here rather than what I think about life here and around the world. But that’s my nature, isn’t it? Make snarky and somewhat cynical and witty remarks about whatever is on my mind and hope I’ve entertained someone (I know my mom is entertained, thus… mission accomplished).

So, life in Italy. Where to begin? I’ve been here two months now, yet it seems like just yesterday I was stepping off the plane and into the Venice airport. I still vividly remember the happiness I felt as my bags were the first to come off the belt (in what screwed up universe does that happen?), the sense of accomplishment I had as I somehow hoisted all three 50+ pound bags onto the cart, all while watching to make sure no one was stealing my purse, and the curiosity I felt as I strolled through the arrivals doors merely being asked only one question by the “customs” agent- “Where are you from?” (he was not behind a desk, instead he stood by the door and briefly looked at the address label on my bags, he could have been anyone actually since he wore no uniform, but I trusted him because he was flanked by two rather large men that looked as if they could have been packing weapons of some sort).

The weather has certainly changed since that warm September day, it was about 30 degrees when I arrived, today the temperature stands at about 8 degrees. The rain has appeared and the fog is usually quite thick and lasts throughout the day. But the thunderstorms are pretty frequent and rather soothing as I sit in the house with my cup of tea with milk (milk in tea is a foreign concept here, everyone thinks I’m strange. They think I’m strange for other reasons, the tea is just one of many).

I’m getting into a routine here, usually during the week I work everyday but Thursday, teaching students in a one-on-one setting. Three of those days I travel into Vicenza by train, unless foiled by train strikes, as I was on Monday, but otherwise the train system here is pretty good and much more comfortable than the Skytrain’s in Vancouver. My students are great, they’re all really talkative and excited to learn, most are either learning because their business is paying for the course, and it’s quite different from teaching in Vancouver actually. Here I am mostly focusing on conversation rather than teaching grammar rules, I’m also working with older students whom are more talkative than the one’s I taught in Vancouver. It’s the cultural differences I suppose, I was told that European and South American students are more talkative and would rather learn through conversation, whereas Asian students, who made up 90% of my classes in Vancouver, would rather learn the rules and practice the language through writing and structurized activities. Neither is better or worse I guess, just different and I’m adapting accordingly.

Having finally mastered the stick shift I drive to the train station on the days that I have to go to Vicenza, on Tuesday I drive to the company that has me teaching one of their employees. It’s nice to be able to get off the mountain and see more of the city, especially as I gain more comfort in the car and with other drivers. Although I spend much of my time in the car hoping that I don’t have to stop at one of those pesky roundabouts, I have this strange hatred towards first gear and try to avoid stopping as much as possible. I still drive more cautiously than I would in Canada, I like to think that it’s because I have to be cautious for the other drivers as well. Italian drivers… it’s an experience that no words can really describe.

I still would rather drive an automatic though, I hate having to change gears, especially when I know a car exists where I don’t have to. But I have drawn some conclusions- the Italians don’t live lives where driving and drinking coffee is normal, and it is illegal to talk on the phone here while driving. Thus, they do not realize that the right hand- the gear shift hand- is better used holding your starbucks or talking on the phone. It is my mission to spread the word.

My Italian- it’s coming along. I’m getting over my initial desire to have to speak everything perfectly. At first I was trying to remember every grammar rule I was taught in university, which is seemingly impossible since there are literally millions of them, don’t even get me started on verb tenses. There is more than I can even try to remember and each subject has their own verb ending.
For example: In English if I wanted to use the verb ‘to go’ in present tense it would be something like this- I go, you go, we go, they go, he goes, she goes. There are two different verb endings to remember there right? (go and goes) Pretty simple. In Italian, if I want to use ‘to go’ in present tense it would be something like this: vado (I), vai (you, singular), va (he/she/it), andiamo (we), andate (you, plural), vanno (they).

Now, think of the 500+ verbs that we have in Italian, and then try to remember all them plus the different endings and rules for the 14 different verb tenses (not to mention the different rules for irregular verbs and spelling for special cases).

It’s a lost cause. Trust.

So, imagine my excitement when my aunt told me that everything I learned in Italian class in university… all that money and time and hard-earned grades… was crap and in actual fact not applicable. I mean of course, if I was doing school here or wanted to talk like I knew what I was doing I could make the effort to do that, but in reality when trying to learn this stuff, I don’t need to worry about all the tenses and rules, instead focus on using the correct verb and sentences structure. In essence, I need to just speak and not worry so much about being right (so hard for me, so very hard).

I think I need to contact my Italian teacher and have a little chat about what he’s been teaching students.

As for my French, well it’s about the same as when I left Canada. Which is next to none. But according to Italians, I should be fluent because I’m Canadian and urban legend says that all Canadians speak French. Mais Non, a Canadian does not a French speaker make.

In other news, I did not vote for Obama. But luckily I did not vote for McCain either. It’s hard to imagine, but as a Canadian I was not able to vote in the American election, something that a few Italian strangers that I encountered on a recent night out had a hard time grasping. (We’re our own nation dammit! With our own stupid Prime Minister! Nor do we have a monarchy!)

Weekends are usually spent with either Christian or Jessica, most often Christian and his friends, some of whom speak English, others whom try when they’ve had a few drinks in them. Oddly enough, my Italian improves if I have a few glasses of wine in me as well.

The questions I’m asked here most often include “how old are you?” “do you have a boyfriend/husband?” and “what pizza is better Italian or North American?” That last one is always said in a voice that means I should say Italian… but I remain neutral and say they are too different to compare, because honestly they are.

And oddly enough, my sarcasm and cynicism, in spite of what you may think while reading this blog, is slowly fading. Or maybe it’s just not as sharp as it once was seeing that Europe offers less to be sarcastic and cynical about… at least to the visitor, I’m sure the native European could find much to complain about.

Sadly, since my initial sighting, I have yet to see Dominique the donkey again. I am hoping he reappears before Christmas, but I have my doubts.

The cat still hates me, even if I have attempted to make amends on more than a few occasions. She’s clawed at me and tried to bite me, I retaliate by refusing to feed her and shutting the garage door on her when I notice her trying to come in.

So I guess that’s it from my side of the Atlantic. I’ve kind of stuck in the same spot for now, but I’m hoping to travel much more in the coming few months, I’m planning a trip to Berlin in late December to visit with Kim, my old roommate, for a New Years version of the “Jen and Kim Show.” Other than that, I’m happy, I’m relishing the Italian culture and I’m enjoying life. Hope everyone else enjoying the rain back home and is excited for the upcoming Christmas season.

Baci!
-j

Earn This

The title of this entry comes from the classic Stephen Spielberg movie “Saving Private Ryan.” As my brother knows very well this line gets me every time. It’s sad because (spoiler alert) it’s muttered in the dying breathes of Tom Hanks’ character to Matt Damon- aka Private Ryan- as a reminder that so many men gave their lives so that he would live, so his mother didn’t have to face that three of her sons died in WWII.

I used to wonder how one person could earn that… how one man could live his life well enough to make up for those who lost theirs? Trying to earn it could drive one person so insane that they may give up as a result of never feeling good enough. Because how does one go about living their life to make up for everything that they gave up? These men, about the same age as Ryan (with the exception of Hanks, who already had a family), could have gone on to have wives, children, grandchildren, etc. and it was up to Ryan to earn everything they gave up. Private Ryan did, and as he visits the graves we see him with his wife, children, grandchildren and he questions whether he was a good man, whether he lived his life well enough. And I guess we’re supposed to feel like that’s enough, live your life to the best of your ability and that will have to suffice.

I don’t intend to give movie reviews here or to contemplate all of Spielberg’s classics (although I may revert to Schindler’s List when I finally visit Auschwitz or E.T. when I need to discuss possible alien life). I used Saving Private Ryan as an example because a) it’s a darn good movie and b) the whole earn this concept is quite fitting for the day.

It’s Remembrance Day. Growing up it was merely a day off school and a reason to waste half a school day at an assembly on the 10th. As I got older it was time and a half at work. Sure, I bought the poppies, and I replaced them when they fell off my lapel (which is quite often), I wore them as if the day was significant to me but felt mostly like a lemming, pinning it to my jackets or work clothes merely as a statement that I comply with this tradition.

In the past couple years, maybe as I educated myself more on the history of Canada in the wars or as I matured and realized what this day means, I began to think about why we have this day, why we pause at the eleventh hour, of the eleventh day, of the eleventh month.

Canadian Military Personnel Killed
* First World War: 66,655
* Second World War: 44,893
* Korean conflict: 516
* Peacekeeping: 121
* Afghanistan: 87

During World War I Canada sent 620,000 soldiers to fight and over 66,000 were killed. There are few, if any (the internet gives me unreliable stats) WWI veterans still alive in Canada and their average age would be over 100.

In World War II over one million Canadians fought in World War II, most of whom were my age or younger and almost 45,000 of them did not return. There are over 268,000 WWII veterans — including over 30,000 women —alive in Canada and their average age is over 80.

These men and women gave their lives - their futures - to protect our lives and freedom in conflicts that luckily many of us will never have to experience. We will never know what they had to fight against or the hell they lived through because they made this ultimate sacrifice for us, so that we would have the possibility for a future.

But why must we remember? Why must my generation- most of which have no memory of war or could never conceive of what life must be like to live through that- take a day to remember these men and women who are long gone?

Because as a human race, as human beings, we must remember what has been lost, what has been gained and what has been sacrificed in order for us to live this way. The memory of the lowest and most significant points in our human history pushes us forward; it evolves us as humans and hopefully prevents mankind from having to live through such violence again.

Remembrance day makes us take pause in our busy lives, the lives in which we are free and able to do as we choose in our great country because of these men and women who worked so hard to protect that freedom.

We are here today because of them, we are here to honor them and we are here to thank them. I only hope that as a society we will continue to remember them and earn what they have so graciously given us.

It is because of these men and women that Canada is the great place that it is today.

DISCLAIMER:
I know I have been very vocal in my extreme opposition to the current wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, but today is not a day to argue the merits of these wars. Today is not the day to fight over whether one believes that war is necessary right now; there are 364 other days of the year to do that and I hope that I have successfully made my comments as unbiased as possible.

a public apology

sorry kristina...

I can't be sure if this is entirely deserved, but I'm really looking forward to the Christmas surprise so I better stay on your good side.

I also know that you have been commenting, I just noticed a slow down from everyone lately and wanted to see more people.

Apparently that doesn't work.

So thanks to you and my mom for entertaining me :D

is there anybody out there?

aside from my mother?

where are all the commenter gone? I like the comments, they entertain me. Don't get me wrong mom, I like trying to decipher your misspelled messages, but wont anyone else entertain me?

The change we need

Lets get the inevitable out of the way first:

I’m so happy, so, so happy that Obama (or Obie as Jessica lovingly refers to him) is the next president of the United States. I didn’t think it was possible, I thought they would let me down again.

Hooray!

I spent a lot of the last week watching the few English-language news programs we get. Those include CNN worldwide, BBC News, MSNBC (which is mainly economy news) and the ever-reliable “unbiased” FoxNews… seriously? Unbiased? Those guys have their head so far up McCains ass and despise Obama so much, that you’d think McCain was running their programming. It’s like a car wreck, I can’t stop watching because I have to see what other “impartial” election coverage they spew out.

And I also came to a conclusion why I dislike McCain so much. It’s not the fact that he puts air quotes around the words women’s rights, as if they’re something to be laughed about. It’s not even the fact that he has voted against women’s health issues over 100 times, so not only would he have been a president that made abortion illegal, but he would drive women’s health issues into the ground. I can even overlook the whole Palin thing (only because I’m in love, love, love with what Tina Fey has done with it, without Palin, we’d never have seen the Fey impression)… although if I hear her call herself a Maverick one more time I may scream, the least she could do is quote Top Gun while doing so (“you can be my wingman anyday”). I can almost forgive him for inflicting Joe the plumber on us, but only because it looks like Joe smartened up in the final hours and left him (in his final campaign hours… or weeks actually, he relied too much on Joe, way too much on Joe).

No, all that is nothing compared to McCain and the way the man acts like a teenager when faced in an argument, and buddy is not a teenager. After watching the final debate I started watching the way he reacts when asked about his competitor or about anyone that happened to be against him. Instead of answering in a mature and thoughtful way, he instead tried to make insults that struck as low-blows. He constantly had to get the last word in and usually made them slight, underhanded comments that were meant to insult, they came off not only as if he sounded immature, but also petty and stupid. To be quite honest, they reminded me of the comments my brother and I would fire at each other when we fought when we were younger (who am I kidding? we still do). But this man is running for President of the United States, grow up and learn to debate like a mature adult.

Other random updates from my world not concerned with anything political:

-I’m still a 75-year old woman when it comes to my obsession with weather. Maybe it’s the Canadian/Vancouverite in me (I can’t remember is everyone in the country obsessed with weather or only the Vancouver people), but I constantly feel the need to update everyone on weather around the world. While I momentarily missed the rain, I can say my longing for wet stuff falling from the sky is over. I had never gone so long without rain, as all Vancouver-ites know, rain is a part of life, especially from late September until May-Junish. So when it didn’t rain all October, I got worried. Mother nature has more than made up for it and I swear on Tuesday night alone it rained as much as it would in one month in Vancouver. Thunderstorms… well last Sunday we probably experience more than a year in Vancouver. Don’t even get me started on the frizz all this is causing in my hair. In other weather news, it was 30 degrees in Southern Italy last weekend.

-I need everyone to go out and buy an egg nogg latte from starbucks, drink it in, savor that first sip and then report back how delightful it was. I’m seriously missing my ‘bucks lately, especially since I know that right about now the egg nogg is out (even if they’re not advertising it, they probably do have it already, just ask). How will I even know it’s Christmas without the red cup? But, as I sit in the cold stealing my free internet I wish I had a cup of coffee in that familiar cup. I don’t think it’s the coffee I miss, because believe me, I’m drinking enough espresso here, but the idea of having hot coffee with me to sip and enjoy over a period of time. Here it’s bought and drunk very fast, taking coffee with you is out of the question. I have my travel mug here, but it hasn’t been used yet, I fear the faces of those on the train when I step on with my mug of coffee and sip it throughout the 40 minute train ride.

-One thing I’m not going to have to miss anymore… hockey! Last week our satellite provider offered the sports channels for free (until March, then it will be charged, that is if they’re kept), meaning that we get about 50 different channels, mostly offering soccer and all soccer related news, but some do show hockey games. Most of them are taped the night before and shown the next day, but on the weekends they’re shown live, at 4am of course (this Sunday will be the Canucks, I think they re-show it at 9 the next night, so I’ll wait for that version). I came home from work today to the sweet sounds of the announcers (in English of course) giving a play-by-play to Anaheim vs. Detroit. Neither team I like, but I bounced in the room high as a kite in the anticipation of watching my ‘nucks.

If it turns out to be a joke at the end, I'm going to be so pissed at whoever started it

Ahhh, November. It’s one of my favorite months because it’s right in the thick of fall, the air is crisp; warm and cozy clothes are a necessity and Christmas is around the corner. It also signals the end of October, a month in which this year, much like the past four, I am happy when it ends.

It seems rather odd that I look forward to the end of a month from the moment it strikes midnight on October 1st, but I do, with good reason of course. I actually thought about writing this blog entry a week ago, but held off even starting it in fear that I would jinx everything and render it all useless.

Why the disdain for a month that brings us such joy as Thanksgiving, Halloween and beautiful landscape filled with the changing colors of the leaves? Well the answer is simple really, and those who know me know that the answer may sound kind of weird in a Jen-way, but in reality it makes complete sense. And of course, in true the future-lawyer Jen fashion, I have the evidence to back it up.

You see, the month is cursed. I can never make it through the month without some horrible disaster happening to me. Of course, in reality, it’s not disastrous in a sense of world hunger, AIDs, war or extreme poverty… but for the sake of my tendency to be overdramatic, the month of October tends to be much harder on me than any other month.

But, not this year. Oh, this glorious year here in the foothills of Italy. I have broken said curse. Or maybe it just hasn’t found me on this side of the world, because no horrible things had happened this October. I didn’t find myself so stressed out that I would begin to cry over a stupid bus driver, nor did I end up in an emergency room or have 4 midterms to study for all in the same day… the worst I faced was a scorpion, which I was actually quite calm about when I alerted Christian to come kill it. Maybe because I’m not in school nor am I stressed out that things haven’t been happening to me, but the point is, it became apparent to me the other day that I had just about made it through the month without any problem, then when the clock struck midnight on Nov. 1 (in Vancouver, lest I be fooled by time change) I gave a silent cheer and hoped that when I return to Vancouver the curse doesn’t find me in October.

Many don’t believe in curses or anything like that. And I get that, I’m probably one of the first people to discredit these things and call it a mere coincidence or bad luck. Besides, it’s not as if I live the month in fear of things, it’s just that after a few years I noticed a pattern to these things and that I have a higher occurrence of bad luck in October. For those that may be skeptical, I give you my evidence:
*October 2004: the great flood of the Cardero apartment.
*October 2005: 4 midterms in 2 days and Jen has no idea what she’s in for during
her first tests at UBC
*October 2006: The great computer crash in which Jen loses a lot of stuff that is irreplaceable (also when I acquired Marley the Macbook- not such a bad thing- and learned that backing up is vital)
*October 2007: The great face falling off incident (which technically lasted until about March ’08, but the initial losing of the top layer of my skin started in Oct.)

Without detailing everything, trust me when I say that these things were pretty crappy events in an otherwise crappy month (because in school, October is generally a bad month because midterms are due and paper topics are generally chosen and profs for some reason always want outlines so they can tell you your ideas suck after you’ve spent countless hours researching… god I don’t miss school).

So happy November everyone! Hope you’re all getting geared up for Christmas and the return of Dominique!

Happy Halloween

Does anyone remember this Halloween song?

“What are you gonna be on Halloween night? A witch or a goblin or a ghost? What are you gonna be? Don’t tell me, wait until Halloween and let me guess”

I suspect that if you weren’t so lucky as to attend FP secondary then you probably have never heard it, well it’s your loss. I’ve actually searched for this song online because I wanted to spam people with it for old times sake.

Anyways, one year in an attempt to raise money for some charity the student council played this little ditty over and over again on the PA system during every break (that includes the 10 minutes we had to run to our lockers and then to class and during lunch) until they raised the amount of money they had set out to raise. The point was that it was annoying enough that the students would give money to make it stop, I think it kind of backfired since I remember most of us continued singing it even after the fundraiser was over. I’m not sure if the money was actually raised or whether they stopped it out of mercy for the teachers and administrations, but I do recall that they played the music for most, if not the whole, of the day. Or at least long enough so that it is sufficiently burned in my memory and that says a lot since I have very little to no memory of any other Halloween parties or events in my high school career (then again, those may have been blocked out due to my desire to forget almost everything from that period).

This year I was shocked to see that the spirit of Halloween is alive and well in Italy, or at least it is among the children. Years ago, when my cousins visited Canada during this time of year they came trick-or-treating with us for the first time and we were told that Italy did not have Halloween traditions. It appears that commercialism has made it’s way over and children now know the pleasure of dressing up in scary (?) costumes and asking people for candy. Although it is apparently not very wide-spread, most of the people I’ve asked do not have children knocking at their doors, and there is certainly no one banging on our door here on this mountain. Well that is with the exclusion of Valentina, my aunt and uncle’s nephew’s daughter. She is rewarded for her trip down here (that is all of about 100 metres) with a bunch of candy, I’m also told she doesn’t play the game right either, instead of knocking she prances in as usual and is rewarded for dressing like a witch. If I have my way (that is I’m home from work before she arrives) I’ll make her play it out as we did back in my day or else no candy for her (that last line should be said a la soup nazi).

Oddly enough, it seems that decorations are a popular seller here, stores are packed with decorations and costumes, but bulk size bags of candy aren’t anywhere to be found, most likely due to the fact that banging on doors and demanding candy isn’t widespread. So if no one really trick-or-treats outside of their close family and friends and apparently only wears these costumes during this time (dressing up at school hasn’t made it’s way here), what’s the point of Halloween? I don’t think that the Italians have really taken this ‘holiday’ to it’s full commercial and money spending potential.

The American’s have though. The local army base, located in Vicenza, broadcasts a radio station, the only English one in the country, and it serves all army bases here in Europe and Iraq. It’s appropriately called The Eagle, it’s catch phrase is “that’s freedom baby,” along with other fun sayings that I can’t recall now but they do make me laugh and talk to the radio as I drive to work. All week they’ve been advertising fun Halloween activities for the whole family in Vicenza, available mostly just for army personnel and they open it up to the “host community” later on in the evening.

Sadly, the bar traditions that we Vancouverites know so well haven’t made their way over here. I’ve been told that at the bars and clubs here Halloween isn’t really celebrated and that you may spot the occasional person with a witches hat or devil horns accessorizing their regular club outfit, full-on costumes and sky-high cover charges are not tradition. On the plus side though, the tradition among young Vancouver woman (maybe North American, I haven’t expanded my research to other cities yet) has not made it’s way across the Atlantic, I’m told that woman here do not attempt to see just how little they can get away with in public, those who have not made their way to Granville Street during the holiday season should know that this traditionally includes either a white, red or black bra and panties set worn with angel wings, devil horns or accessories that makes one believe they are a “sexy kitten” or “sexy rabbit.”

It has come to my attention though that it is November 1st that is the real holiday though. I recall in the past reading on many a calendars that the day was called “All Saint’s Day” and apparently this is not as a tribute to that Brit-pop band from the 90’s that tried to steal the Spice Girls success (remember them? they sang that catchy song Never Ever, this was my sad attempt to add humor to this post). Instead it is apparently because every day here is a day for a dead saint. Most people have saints attached to their name, well that is most people but my family. Obviously Saint Jennifer does not exist (that is until my passing, haha), nor is there as Saint Livi, Jessica, Meraldo or Christian (although Christian hasn’t been verified, Livi just refuses to believe that he could have a saint). Simone (Jessica’s boyfriend) on the other hand celebrated his saint’s day on Tuesday, we of course celebrated by doing nothing, since we were casually told this over dinner and no one seemed to care one way or another. The point of All Saint’s day is to honor those that do not have saints days, thus everyone celebrating together. This seems unfair to those like Simone who do not really get a celebration on their actual day, yet those not who were named names of people who were not so saintly get a whole holiday and celebration (if it didn’t fall on a Saturday this year I’m told that a day off work would be given).

How does one actually celebrate the day (also nicknamed day of the dead)? Well simple, apparently some go to church, uncle Meraldo does this- I’m told he goes every Christmas, Easter and All Saint’s Day (I guess they’re called C, E and Aer’s here)- the rest of us will not partake. After that is lunch (or maybe before, I’m still unclear) and then we all follow a processional to the cemetery, generally you walk down together with everyone in town, luckily for us we will be at Stella’s, where the cemetery is right next door so if it continues to pour, as it has the past two days, we wont have much of a walk. Once at the cemetery you stand beside your loved one’s grave and a priest blesses the grave, kind of like a final blessing. Afterwards, or at least in my aunt’s tradition, she gathers with friends at the bar.

I’m also facing a dilemma right now. Normally, in Canada I begin playing Christmas music on Nov. 12, since Remembrance Day is the last holiday before Christmas and thereby grants me the right to start preparing my celebrations. Do I continue this tradition, although I don’t technically get a holiday on that day nor do I have any poppies for me to lose on a daily basis? Or do I begin doing so on November 2nd, seeing that the 1st is the last holiday here before Christmas? OR… do I confess that I’ve already started listening to Christmas music on my iPod already?

Keep in mind this poll is purely in relation to the music at home, I want to know when I can start convincing my aunt to listen to Christmas music so that we can stop the madness and discontinue the continuous playing of her Alan Jackson CD that I will forever hate my brother for burning for her.

The plot, like the sauce, thickens…

As the weeks go by here in Italy it’s becoming apparent to me why I’m here. Because while travel, shoes, culture and all that fun stuff was what I thought brought me here, I’ve found other purpose.

They’re grooming me.

I’ve become an expert at sweeping, bathroom cleaning, espresso brewing, making beds and laundry folding and hanging. Grocery shopping, something that used to be done more often than I’d like to admit and never consisted of more than a few items, has now become a weekly thing (Saturday mornings) and consists of many, many bags.

And now, I’ve learned something that I never thought I would. On Saturday I became the first of Nonna’s Canadian grandchildren to learn how to make soup. Fear not family, the tradition will continue with me.

After we made the soup (which is insanely easy to do) my aunt said to me that I now was ready to have children and hand the recipe down through the generations.

Aside from soup, I also learned how to make veal (spare me the politically incorrect commentary, the baby cow tastes good) stew… aka spicitine (I’m fairly certain it’s not spelt right, but you get the point), although we got the recipe out of a book and thus I’m certain this is not the same as Nonna’s.

I’m beginning to think it’s not just a joke that Nonna wants me to come back married, I think everyone’s plotting against me.

Crap, I think I’m becoming domesticated.

If the reindeer cannot climb the hills of Italy… these guys don’t seem to have a problem

Mission Accomplished!

No, Jessica is not engaged (although much to my dismay, I drop not so subtle hints all the time). I saw Dominique! For an explanation on just who Dominique is, see this video… as for why you don’t know yet…. shame on you (even if you do know Dominique, I recommend watching the video again, it is rather hilarious).



Further background. As of last Christmas, we (Team I.D., myself and my cousins Kristina and Deanna) became obsessed with the donkey. He has become our mascot, every time we give each other gifts it always includes a donkey of some sort. It’s grown to the point where my wedding will surely include a donkey somehow. Anyways, before I came to Italy I said my goal was to find Dominique and somehow get it involved in some kind of Christmas surprise. Well, when I got here everyone told me that there were no donkey’s nearby, so it would be nearly impossible to do something for Christmas… well on Thursday I was given hope.

Thursday afternoon I was driving home from work when I noticed a large herd of sheep in the field near the hill I live on. I said to myself (because I talk to myself a lot while I drive… true fact) that I should check that out, since donkey’s must be near sheep (ok, I’ll admit stupid logic, but I was concentrating on the road and thereby not on what kind of animals sheep hang with). I started driving up the hill and I was only about ¼ of the way up when all of the sudden rounding a corner was this guy and his herd of sheep. I’m talking hundreds of sheep just coming towards me and my car. So I stop (without stalling!) and wait for them to pass. Luckily I had my camera, because as I was changing my purses that morning I almost decided against it because, what was going to be photo-worthy at work? Thank god I thought otherwise.














There were literally hundreds of them, just baa-ing and smelling all sheep-like (that’s bad for those not lucky enough to have ever smelt it)… and mixed in with them were a bunch of donkey’s. I probably looked like an idiot in the car taking pictures and being all smiley and giddy, but that was because I had somewhat accomplished what Kris and Dee sent me out to do. But alas, since I’m sharing the pictures now, it’s obviously not the Christmas surprise, they’re not really good quality for the idea I have anyways. I just needed to share that hope springs eternal and there are donkey’s for me to dress up and antagonize this December. As for the pictures, check them out.



In all honesty it really was an amazing sight to see, I mean all these sheep just walking towards me and just outside my car. I could literally just stick my arm out the window and pet them, by I abstained since I didn’t want the smell to linger after they had passed.

When I got home I told my aunt and uncle (well she translated for him) they weren’t so impressed. They had actually passed by the house about half an hour before, so even if I weren’t lucky enough to see them in the car, I would have seen them had I been home (and most likely gotten better shots of the donkey’s not being in the car and all).

In other happy news… after the donkey’s and sheep’s passed me I was able to continue up the hill. For those who have never had the joy of driving stick-shift let me tell you, starting on a hill is a pain in the ass, in the past I would panic or roll backwards or stall. So I was incredibly happy when I was able to just start the car and get driving again without any problem. Yet another example that I’m becoming a skilled driver here.